


Under His Gaze

by Le_Cuddles



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blow Jobs, C137cest, Drug Use, Embarrassed, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Incest, Kinky, Lack of control, M/M, OC, On Display, Rickorty, Rough Sex, Smut, Somnophilia, dubcon, shitty plot just to drive kinks, vulnerable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28579809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Cuddles/pseuds/Le_Cuddles
Summary: In an effort to close a deal with a man whose trust Rick has been eluding, he devises a plan to win him over, enlisting his grandson's help to make his story more believable.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 6
Kudos: 84





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! :)
> 
> Please do mind the tags. This is mainly revolved around exhibitionism and will definitely continue to follow that theme. It's a little dubcon-y and will include a lot of sexual vulnerability (as a kink) and potentially some clearly-consensual degradation in the future chapter. We'll see... 
> 
> Oh and some somnophilia is /guaranteed/ in chapter two...
> 
> So, yeah...just wanted to make sure I did my due diligence here. :D

“T-T-Trust me, Morty,” Rick had a hand pressed to the middle of Morty’s back as he pushed him along and towards the exit of his ship. “This is  _ totally  _ normal here,” Rick assured, shooting him a wide grin.

“Y-You sure, Rick?” Morty squeaked, looking up to his grandfather skeptically, his brows pulled together in distrust. As Rick nodded to him confidently, his chest filled with a heat of uncertainty that started in his gut and rose through his throat like harsh stomach acid. He swallowed hard and pulled at the hem of his shirt nervously. This was all too much. “I-I-I don’t know, R-Rick...it just doesn’t  _ feel _ normal,” Morty argued, making Rick grip at the back of his shirt and pull him to a halt. 

The older man, stepped in front of him and leant down to put his face closer to the boy. Morty folded in on himself a little bit, but then locked eyes with the older man and swallowed the thickening lump in his throat. “Morty, these people are into - into freaky shit,” Rick explained, pulling away to suck down a quick shot of whiskey from his flask. “I think the reason I can’t get a job with these - these fuckers is ‘cause I’m not doin’ weird shit, y’know?” Morty returned his stare with one that said ‘No, I don’t know’. Rick continued anyway. “The only way to earn their trust is for you to - to - for us to pretend to be in a relationship,” Rick explained, breaking eye contact. 

Morty whimpered disapprovingly at the last part, but gave in anyway. There were more than just the obvious reasons why Morty felt this was a bad idea. First of all, what if the alien federation realized that they  _ weren’t _ , in fact, in a relationship. That it was all a ploy for Rick to close a deal and that his grandfather had manipulated them. Or how about the fact that as of late, Morty had been having these... _ fantasies _ ...about his  _ grandfather _ ...and they certainly weren’t for the faint of heart. Morty groaned once more in disapproval, but continued down the ramp of the ship and out to the welcoming party anyway.

“Oh, Rick, the man of the hour!” A man of distinguishable clout approached him, putting his hand out in a gesture of good faith. His skin was a faire purple, his eyes as green as algae, and his smell not far from mimicking the stench of bacteria itself. Morty suppressed a gag in an effort to be respectful. Rick smacked away the man’s hand, laughing obnoxiously.

“Drop the formalities, Gorblon, you’re like a father to me,” Rick stepped past him and Morty’s face screwed up tight in confusion. Father? Gorblon didn’t seem to share Rick’s sentiment and his nose wrinkled in disgust and disagreement. He shook his shoulders to loosen himself up, his over-the-top, rounded-out shoulder pads displacing ever so slightly as he did. He spun on his heel, following Rick as he high-fived a few guards, strutting down the hallway with obvious knowledge of the layout.

“Hey, baby, you miss your big daddy Rick?” A woman that Morty could only assume was a former sexual conquest of Rick’s, rolled her eyes and scoffed. Rick tossed up his hands like he couldn’t believe her reaction, he turned back to shoot Morty a glance. “S-She left me like 15 voicemails...what the fuck w-was that shit?”

“Y-Your gross, Rick,” Morty huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Gorblon looked between Rick and Morty skeptically and opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Rick’s rude interjection.

“Ayyyee, we’re here, motherfuckers, hahaha,” as the doors swung open, Morty’s senses were overwhelmed. An eruption of cheer that matched his grandfather’s excitement and a swell of odor that reeked of unworldly drugs and booze washed over him with brutal intensity. Morty choked as the pungent smell clawed through his nostrils and down his throat, filling his lungs with obvious toxins.

“Rick,” Morty whined helplessly as he covered his nose with his forearm and extended his other arm to curl his fingers into his grandfather’s lab coat, a sense of vulnerability and dizziness overtaking him suddenly. Rick shook him off and held his arms out at his sides invitingly.

“Hey, look who I brought,” Rick motioned to Morty who still stood behind him, his face flushed and his eyes watering with irritation. “He’s my grandson,” Rick winked at the man who sat at the head of the table.

“That’s it?” The man countered with a chuckle, indirectly pressing for more information.

“Nah, we’re fucking,” Rick retorted casually, making Morty’s eyes pop with sudden horrified surprise. Morty pressed his arm against his nose harder, trying to hide behind it, and squeezed his eyes shut with embarrassment. His stomach flipped and he wished to be anywhere but here, under these apparent high rollers’ scrutiny. He’d imagined more formality and professionalism from a “federation”. He felt vulnerable and exposed and he folded inward a little as his confidence wavered under his consternation. A persistent, burning blush covered his cheeks, a red color deepening across the already-ablazed flesh.

“Hm…” the man that Morty assumed to be the ring-leader looked over him with a heavy skepticism and he could practically feel Rick’s red hot disappointment as he watched Morty shift with unease. “I don’t know, Rick…” he trailed off, his eyes roaming Rick’s features in search of deceit. “You tellin’ me that the man who’s fucked nearly every woman affiliated with my federation is now suddenly shacking up with his  _ grandson?  _ You sayin’ you settled down?” He peered around the genius to give Morty another once over and then leaned back into his seat properly, reconnecting eye contact.

“Y-You still telling yourself you’re a  _ federation- _ ” Rick looked around the room, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Rick,” he interjected and Rick groaned, rubbing at his forehead as Morty mewled behind him nervously. Morty had to be the worst liar in the multiverse. Like...the absolute worst...

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you,” Rick assured, straightening his face in an effort to be convincing. The man, however, still looked unconvinced. “Morty, baby, come here,” Rick was using that smooth voice that he’d heard him use on lovers and Morty’s breath hitched in his throat and his legs felt heavy. Rick turned to look at him and waved him over, Morty swallowing the anxiety that lodge in his esophagus and stepping up beside Rick.

He slung an arm over Morty’s shoulders and the boy looked up at him with wide eyes that clearly displayed his uncertainty. The ringleader looked at them expectantly and Morty could tell that Rick was trying to do the bare minimum to convince him. Rick grabbed his hand, the sheer size of it almost engulfing his completely. “Come sit next to me,” Rick cooed, “don’t be shy.” Rick moved them to the table and Morty let him pull him along, plopping down in the seat next to Rick. 

“I-I-I don’t know, Rick...what’re you trying to pull here?”

“How long have you known me?” To Morty, Rick always sounded convincing, but it was clear that the man had been around the block a few times and was no stranger to a con. His eyes were still squinted and running over Morty’s body. “He’s just shy...d-d-doesn’t like the PDAs, y’know?” Rick shrugged.

“Sorry, Rick...I really hate to say it, but...I don’t trust this - trust you,” the man deadpanned. “Leave.” The men sitting around him rose to their feet, pulling their weaponry and pointing them at the duo. They put their hands up in surrender. “You’re playing me, Rick,” he accused flatly. If the man was offended, he wasn’t showing it. Was it really  _ all  _ business?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Rick stumbled, “hey, man, if it’s proof you want...then…” he turned to his grandson who was looking up at him with impossibly hesitant eyes. With adrenaline coursing through his veins, Rick broke a cardinal rule. He cupped Morty’s face and pulled him into a kiss as the boy struggled against him, Morty’s eyes squeezing shut and his breath catching in his throat. Rick rubbed his thumb against his cheek soothingly with skin calloused from adventure and carelessness. Morty’s cheek was hot to the touch as Rick’s lips massaged his own open, pressing his tongue in insistently and lapping at his mouth. The touch of Rick’s thumb against his burning flesh was soft and reassuring and Morty felt a wave of warmth flow from his head to his toes as he finally acknowledged the pleasurable sensations of lips pressed firmly against his own. The younger relaxed into the kiss and - dare he admit it - was a little disappointed when Rick pulled away. “See?” Rick shrugged nonchalantly, but his reigning counterpart still seemed leery.

Much to Morty’s embarrassment, the kiss had gone straight to his groin and his easily-excited dick was making a very unwelcome appearance, pressed hard against his jeans. The shape of his perfectly sculpted manhood showing with sudden clarity. Rick stood up cautiously - so as to not alarm the armed men - and ensnared Morty’s wrist, pulling him to his feet and holding his arm above his head with ease. Morty lifted himself onto his tippee toes, whimpering at the near painful stretch, trying to meet the other man’s height. Rick seemed to notice, having forgotten how high he towered above his grandson, and lowered his hand accordingly. He pointed at Morty’s growing erection as evidenced of their relationship and looked at the ringleader, shooting him a look that Morty recognized as a challenge. He whimpered under Rick’s hold, feeling like an item to be used by the older man, like a tool, like a rag doll being twisted and controlled at Rick’s will, but what else was new?

“R-Rick...ow...a-ah...that hurts,” Morty gasped in plea, “please...let me go,” his heart was pounding in his chest, the hard thumps resounding in his ears. He didn’t know how to explain it, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins didn’t seem entirely based in a desperation for Rick to stop. The eyes on him made him feel vulnerable and out of control. Much to his surprise...it was revving him up more and more, making his breathing speed up and he avoided eye contact, trying to will his erection down. In an act of panic at the sudden, intense wash of arousal, Morty fussed in protest, his fingers pulling at Rick’s grasp fervently. This was quickly turning into a bigger problem than either of them could have anticipated, as evident by his raging hard-on.

His length grew noticeably under the gaze of the audience and Morty made a shriek of humility as he bent slightly to cover himself, his eyes dropping to the ground. Rick’s face was straight, unphased by his grandson’s reaction. Morty could feel the blunt ripples of his zipper pressing into his engorged member and he held back a hiss as his cock shifted against it teasingly as he twisted to hide himself. The tip threatened to leak in favor of his exposure at the hand of his grandfather combined with the harsh friction of his zipper against his attention-seeking cock. And to be fair, Morty did think it had a point. He wanted it to be touched too...

His whole body felt like it was on fire as the mens’ eyes raked over him with expressions that Morty couldn’t quite identify. They’re eyes seemed to be eating up his slender frame and his uncomfortable positioning. Almost lustfully watching Morty squirm and his knees fall inward in an attempt to further shroud his arousal. His shirt pulled up ever-so-slightly, with his wrist still seized above his head, revealing the pale skin of his thin hip. Air seemed to catch in his throat, never finding its way to his lungs and he felt a dizziness wash over him. He was holding his breath. 

“Believe me now?” Rick asked, raising his brow expectantly. Rick released him and Morty dropped back down into his seat instantly, gulping down air as his lungs resumed control. The man looked them over and then after a moment, his entire demeanor changed, his scowl cracking into a grin.

“Damn, Sanchez, your own grandson? That’s pretty fucked up...and honestly, kinda hot…” he laughed and then turned his gaze back to Morty, eyeing his obvious hard-on. “He’s pretty easy to get going, huh? Looks like it’s gonna hurt,” He scoffed, almost mockingly, and motioned for his subordinates to sit back down. Morty’s face burned with embarrassment, but the man wasn’t wrong. He quickly covered himself up. “Alright, we can do business,” he said, nodding. “But first...let’s celebrate your new relationship!” Everyone cheered, except for Morty and Rick patted at his leg reassuringly. The boy’s head was still swimming and his manhood was hot with pulsating blood flowing through it in wave after wave of unrelenting desire. 

“Fuuuck yeah, that’s more like it, hahaha! I brought the good - the good fucking shit,” Rick said to the man, pulling bags filled with pale blue, crystallic objects. He slid a bag across the table and pulled one of the pebble-sized pieces out of his own bag. He quickly tossed one into his mouth and downed it with a swig of whiskey. Morty watched him with concern, briefly wondering if swallowing it hurt his throat. He’d never seen Rick take that before. Almost instantly Rick’s pupils dilated with an obviously strong high. He hummed under the sudden numbing of the drug, an inevitable, short-lived calm blanketing his mind. 

As jubilant, inebriated chatter filled the room, Morty sat still in his seat, his hands fiddling in his lap nervously. He couldn’t say he was scared, more so conflicted with how the whole thing had affected him. Being on display for complete strangers to ogle just made him even harder...what was wrong with him? He looked over to Rick who was leaning across the table and slapping his hand in front of his business partner in what Morty could assume as an outburst of laughter fueled by comedy and disbelief. 

With the attention directed elsewhere, Morty let his eyes wander and soaked in his grandfather’s appearance. He was lean and tall, so tall. The way Rick was outstretched against the table made him seem larger, longer in length and Morty found an unfortunate stir of arousal brewing. His hair was unruly and he was messy in general. His hair stuck to his forehead from the sweat produced from being in a crowded room and being drunk and high. Morty’s lips parted slightly as his eyes wandered lower. Down his chest that was hiding behind his signature blue sweater. Morty was grateful that Rick had taken off his lab coat. At least that was one less article of clothing obscuring his view.

That being said, Morty had seen Rick’s naked torso before and with a little imagination, he could fill in the blanks. Strong pectoral muscles that connected to bony shoulders that led into Rick’s deceivingly strong arms. His stomach was solid like unbreakable rock, Morty thought. Indents of muscles showing slightly along on the sides of his flattened abdomen. 

Morty’s eyes followed the lines of his drooping sweater until it settled just below his ribs as it rode up with his positioning against the table and he reeled back ever-so-slightly. The curvature of his lower stomach was a little rounder than the rest of his midsection. He could see, just below his belly button, a light splattering of hair that formed an asymmetrical line down to the hem of his pants. His heart skipped a beat and then promptly pivoted to an outrageous pace as Morty realized that Rick’s belt buckle had caught itself on the edge of the table and was pulling his pants down enough to reveal the sharp ‘v’ of his pubic area. He could see the grooves on either side of the seductive shape and Morty thought he was going to burst with want. 

“Hey, what’re you droolin’ at, idiot?” Rick chided, slapping Morty’s bicep with the back of his hand. Morty gasped partially due to the unexpected nature of the sudden strike, but also because Rick had noticed him staring. “If you’re hungry, go get somethin’ to eat,” Rick pointed at the table that held heaps of food.

“O-Oh, I-I-I’m not very hungry, R-Rick,” Morty said sheepishly. Rick looked him over quickly, his lips pursing downward as he tried to read his grandson’s face. After a moment, Rick shrugged and moved on, training his attention back to the hosts. Morty looked down at his lap, wincing as his mind wandered into dangerously wonton territories. Despite being surrounded by people, he felt terribly alone, leaving him to his thoughts. How Rick’s hands felt against his face, the feel of his lips on his, the taste of his mouth. Just thinking about it sent a shiver up his spine. This adventure was not making things any easier on him.

“Hey, Rick, you should stick around!” The man rounded the table and sat down on top of it half-heartedly in front of Morty. Rick chuckled and despite the euphoria coursing through his veins, he tried to decline the offer with a shake of his head.

“No, I don’t think we will,” Rick smirked, assuming the man was just being courteous, but his lips fell loose when he I nsisted.

“C’mon, we’ll hook you two up…” he assured. Rick gave Morty a quick evaluating side glance, finding that he was trying to convey his absolute disapproval of the offer. Rick looked back to the man. He hadn’t come this far, done this much just to lose out on a huge deal.

“Yeah, okay,” Rick replied, shrugging and Morty looked up at him like he was insane. Umm, how about no? No thank you? That’s okay, maybe next time?

“R-Rick,” Morty whispered, his grandfather quickly dismissing him.

“So, let’s talk about this new galaxial fuel,” Rick stood up and walked to stand in front of his business partner. “I have a few buyers lined up. You ready cash in?” He said provocatively, knowing his partner favored money above all else.

“No, business tomorrow,” the man countered. “Tonight, go enjoy yourselves,” Rick’s face fell frustratedly.

“You’re fucking killing me, Rando,” he groaned, placing a hand on his hip and rubbing at his eyes. “Fine.” He grabbed Morty’s forearm and dragged him along, Morty looking behind him and stumbling to keep up with his grandfather’s long legs.

“Hey, have fun for me, will ya?” He called after them and they could practically hear the wink that accompanied it. Rick released him and Morty followed closely behind him as he led them to the suite he normally stayed in. Morty watched the older man, mulling over the prospect of calling him out. Rick had said absolutely  _ nothing  _ about kissing him or showing him off like that when they were in the ship. 

Rick opened the door, revealing an unexpectedly large room. Sheer curtains hung at the edges of the windows, creating a lavish appearance. Further solidifying the expensive look, a champagne bottle stand sat right in front of it. Rick had come to a hard stop in the middle of the room, the larger-than-king-sized bed and the sizable flat screen TV on either side of him. Morty, entranced by his impressive surroundings, almost didn’t notice that his grandfather had stopped. He made a squeak of surprise as he almost collided with him.

“I’m gonna go to the casino,” Rick snarled and grabbed the bottle of champagne, turning to Morty with a hard expression. Morty looked confused, stilled as his brain sputtered, trying to understand why Rick looked so mad. Morty didn’t want to stay, Rick had chosen to stay, so why was he mad at him? Maybe he was mad at himself? “I’m taking this, so you don’t drink it…” Morty cocked his head. He didn’t drink? “Not that I wouldn’t find out considering you’re  _ THE WORST LIAR EVER _ !” Morty looked taken aback and Rick pushed past him. He turned around and watched his grandfather storm out of the room, his hand gripped tightly around the neck of the bottle. The door slammed close and Morty’s mind was still racing to catch up.

“W-Wait, Rick...what?” Morty shook his head slightly, his eyebrows quirking in startled confusion. Suddenly the door opened and Rick popped his head in.

“Hey…” Rick said and Morty leaned in almost unnoticeably. Rick had heard him and decided to come back. He actually listened to him...

“Yeah?” Morty said, his chin lifting a little in anticipation.

“Fuck. You.” He growled, making Morty scowl back at him from across the room.

_ Asshole... _  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

He couldn’t sleep. The mattress gave way to his weight and cradled the edges of his body as he sank into the pillow top. He released a heavy sigh that had been building in his chest. Rick was impossible to understand and he never ceased to prove it. Morty shifted on to his other side, looking at the empty spot on the bed beside him. He wondered if Rick would be back and spend the night here. He was pretty mad, so maybe not.

As if on cue, the door opened precariously and the genius stepped through, obviously more blitzed than when he had left. He tiptoed in, trying not to wake Morty up. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about the boy’s sleep, it was more about the fact that Rick didn’t want to deal with his bullshit. He guided the door intentionally and it clicked quietly as he closed it shut. Morty quickly closed his eyes as Rick rounded the bed, stumbling and smacking his hip bone against the dresser. He could hear him move angrily and stomp his foot. 

“Ow, fuck…” he heard him whisper.

Rick turned his back to Morty and stripped his shirt off, followed by his pants, leaving him solely clothed by his boxers. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down at the scar of a gash on his stomach. Rick turned back around and lifted up the blankets, pausing suddenly. Morty held his breath, praying that Rick was too fucked up to notice he was awake. His grandfather crawled into bed, pulling the blankets over himself and laying on his back. Rick was trashed and as he closed his eyes, his head swam, his eyes feeling like they may just melt and flow freely from his head. He groaned softly and transitioned onto his side, with his back to his grandson, finding it a little more comfortable. 

Morty cautiously opened his eyes, following the deep grooving of scars on his shoulders. The way his shoulder blades accented his back and the slight indent of his spine. Morty tried to regulate his breathing as it threatened to pick up. He closed his eyes, focusing internally and talking himself down. What was it about even the smallest part of Rick's bare body that had him instantly pining for more. Rick shifted slightly and Morty reeled back a little further in response. 

Luckily for him, the alcohol lulled Rick to sleep almost instantly as his body insisted on rest. He snored softly and Morty’s breath aprubtly caught in his throat. Rick was asleep...that presented a new set of challenges for him. Morty had never been so close to Rick while in the same bed with them both half naked before and his body was rerouting his blood flow to somewhere much more inappropriate.

He felt his blood pressure rising as damning thoughts - suggestions, really - crossed his mind. If he was still enough, quiet enough, would Rick know he was touching himself? Probably not. Usually Rick was a light sleeper, but when he drank too much, he slept like the dead. Settling on a decision, Morty gently rolled onto his back, giving Rick a quick glance to make sure he didn’t notice. Morty’s adrenaline quickly rose in his throat as a sense of danger and sudden desperation washed over him. 

He pressed his heels into the mattress, lifting his hips up to slide his boxers down and dropping them off of the bed. He tensed in an effort to further control his movements, slowly lowering his hips so as to not alarm and awake the older man beside him. He bit his lip, a final moment of hesitation, before he reached out and grabbed the bottle of lotion on the bedside table. He squirted some in his hand, the bottle making an unexpected suction sound that seemed to reverberate off the walls.  _ It sounded so loud to his ears _ . He quickly looked over to Rick, watching his back expand slightly with each labored breath. 

Morty carefully lifted the blankets, slipping his hand underneath them. He pressed his palm against the heat that had built between his legs. The lotion felt more than just relieving, it felt  _ good _ all on its own. His eyes fluttered and lips parted slowly as he tried to calm himself down. He was getting  _ too _ worked up and he needed to maintain control over himself. He slathered the lotion on his length in rolling motions with his palm and swallowed a gasp, his eyes squeezing shut for a second to focus on stilling himself. 

Once he felt a little more soothed, he wasted no time in gripping himself tightly, sliding his hand up and down his shaft in pointed corkscrew motions. His other hand cupping his balls, squeezing gently and rolling them in his palm. Up until this moment, he hadn’t really given the situation much thought. Sure he was cognizant of his actions, but he hadn’t really acknowledged the situation for all that it was. So close to Rick as he slept soundly, completely unaware of the sexual deviance that was unfolding beside him.

Morty didn’t think Rick would really be mad. The genius wasn’t exactly vanilla himself, Morty justified. He looked over to his grandfather who was still curled up in the blankets, his bare shoulders alluding to the nakedness of the rest of his body. At the base of his skull, his unkempt, blue hair fell loosely. Morty’s eyes followed the strands, his body jerking a little as a wave of pleasure raced through him. He let go of himself in an effort to keep himself quiet, suppressing the moans of absolute, crushing arousal. It filled his lungs like water, making them feel heavy and shaky with every breath he slowly inhaled. 

He swallowed hard and reached back between his legs, using his other hand to gingerly slide the blankets down and away from Rick’s back to reveal more of his scarred flesh. He looked so rough, so battered, and damaged and Morty assumed that most of these must have been from the Battle of Blood Ridge that Rick had told him about. Morty refocused as he caught a glimpse of his lower back peeking out at him. He could see a thin sheen of sweat residing right above the hem of his boxers, Rick’s body running hot from the alcohol.

Morty picked up the pace, stroking himself more purposefully now. His eyes trailed over his shoulders, the curvature of his ear that crested right above his hair, then down his sides, and following the outline of his hips that were still covered in the comforter. Morty kept his eyes trained on his sleeping grandfather as he stroked himself, burying his fist in the sheets, his mouth hanging open absently. Right as he was about to burst, his grandfather shifted, turning on his side to face him. Morty’s face fell white and his hand abruptly stopped mid-stroke. His lungs felt they were caught in a trap and his body felt paralyzed in fear. He could’ve wailed in horror.

Rick scooted a little closer to him, draping his arm across the boy’s abdomen. Morty laid there as stiff as a board under the deadweight of Rick’s arm. He was absolutely petrified. He had no idea what to do or how to move, but luckily Rick was still sound asleep. He let the near-gasp that he’d been holding in slip from his mouth and his chest gently fell accordingly. While Morty was thankful that Rick was still asleep, his arm was also pinning his wrists to the mattress and pulling his hand away from his dick. Rick shifted slightly, adjusting to get comfortable as he cuddled up to Morty, and rested his head on his shoulder. 

After what felt like too long of intentional stillness, the weight of Rick’s arm was beginning to hurt as it pressed into his stomach and Morty was finding it difficult not to move. He was trying to hold out. To maybe just will himself to sleep, but Rick’s arm was pressing into his organs and before he knew it or could stop himself, he was sliding up against the bed, so that Rick’s arm was resting on his hip bones. 

“M-Morty…” Rick murmured, sleep talking. Morty could’ve screamed. There was a lot more going on here than he bargained for and at this point, he just wanted out. Despite how he was feeling, however, his body seemed to disagree. His erection hadn’t waned at all, in fact, if anything, the pulsating had become more persistent. Rick moved his arm a little higher, the gentle graze of flesh on flesh setting Morty’s loins on fire, and his hips reacted almost instinctively, rolling upward in search of some much needed friction. His leaking tip grazed Rick’s forearm and suddenly he knew what he wanted - no, what he  _ needed _ . More of  _ that _ .

It was definitely fair to say that at this point, Morty had lost his goddamn mind. Driven by pure carnal desires, he ground his hips up desperately against his grandfather’s forearm, leaving a slick streak of precum in its wake. With his hands still unfortunately pinned at his side, this was the only way he could think of to find relief and his mind was too foggy with lust to raise alarms. He found a shaky, inconsistent rhythm as he fucked against Rick’s forearm, the precum allowing him to glide easily despite the lotion having lost its effect.

If it was even possible, his length was swelling even more with an overwhelming sense of desperation and he felt like he could be crushed under it at any moment. He gasped as he felt Rick’s lips unintentionally graze the skin of his shoulder, a little bit of drool dripping onto his heated flesh. Morty pushed his head back into his pillow harshly and arched his back. He squeezed his eyes shut. He was  _ so  _ close. He sucked in a deep breath and pushed his fists into the mattress, his knuckles turning white under the force. His face flushed a deep, crimson red and his eyes snapped open as he felt his impending orgasm crescendoing. His eyes crossed as the overwhelming pleasure continued to build in his balls. He was too far gone to think about the consequences of cumming all over Rick’s arm. How would he explain that? Wet dream? He wasn’t too worried about the fall out though...not anymore.

“ _ Fuck!  _ Morty, what the  _ fuck _ are you doing?” Rick yelled, reeling back and pulling his arm away, but Morty quickly replaced his arm with a tight fist pumping at himself fervently. He felt like it was too late. He couldn’t stop it even if he wanted to. The boy let out a loud shriek of pain as Rick smacked his balls, effectively halting his orgasm in its tracks and replacing it with an  _ incredibly unbearable _ pain. “Jesus fucking Christ, you little shit,” Rick growled, wiping at his forearm.

Morty slowly opened his eyes as the pain started to dissipate. He could tell Rick was about to set his ass back in his place and he was starting to wonder if any of this had actually been worth it. Rick had gotten up to rest on his knees beside him and he looked  _ very _ angry. Morty whimpered and tried to scoot himself off the bed, but Rick grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back into place and straddled his waist, pinning his arms to the bed with his shins. Rick’s look was intense, his face stern, and his features distinct with a burning hot anger that was rooted in a feeling of violation. Rick leant over, pressing his hands on either side of Morty’s head. The glare was too intense, too much, Morty turned his head to look away, but Rick would be damned. He wrapped his hand around Morty’s face, his palm pressed firmly against his mouth and his fingers dug into his cheeks painfully. He jerked his face back to force Morty to look at him. Morty’s fearful mewl was muffled by Rick’s hand and his cock bounced involuntarily as it began to rise again under the aggressive gestures of domination.

“Look at me,” Rick demanded and Morty turned his eyes back to look into Rick’s. “Y-Y-You think just ‘cause I was asleep that y-y-you were gonna get away with that shit?” Morty’s eyes were wide and he couldn’t exactly speak under Rick’s grip. “Well?” Morty shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest as his grandfather loomed over him intimidatingly. Another large thump of blood flooded his manhood and he tried to stop it the best he could, thinking of anything that may turn him off, but it was too late...Rick had already noticed. 

The cloth of Rick’s boxers were so thin and so soft that he could feel his package resting on his abdomen, right below his belly button. The pain in his arms and the hand that clamped over his mouth aggressively was squandering any amount of control Morty had thought he had over the situation and he was forced to submit to Rick’s power over him...and honestly, he’d never been so hard in his life. Rick’s eyes widened and then faded into a hard roll as he felt his grandson’s once again growing manhood brush against his ass.

“Jesus Christ, Morty...y-y-you’re a little freak…” Rick shook his head, sounding annoyed. Morty’s eyes fluttered at the sudden tone change. It was softer than before and his brain translated it as a slow devolution towards giving in. 

“S-Sorry, R-Rick,” he pushed out, barely comprehensible under Rick’s still-firm grip. He pulled in hard breaths through his nose and looked up to Rick with pupils that were blown out and eyes that were laced with a hopeful arousal. Morty couldn’t say that he was actually sorry, but he knew what role he needed to be playing to get Rick onboard and he was going to milk it for all that it was worth. Rick’s eyes widened impossibly large as he watched the boy squirm beneath him lustily, giving into Rick’s weight and superiority. Morty moved his stomach in a swishing motion that he hoped didn’t seem too intentional to Rick as it rubbed against his crotch, trying to stimulate his grandfather further into making a poor decision.

“Stop,” Rick snarled, making Morty inhale sharply through his nose and he stilled as Rick had commanded. So he was pretty obvious then, huh? He winced as he felt the lack of circulation to his hands really starting to hurt and he tried to pull them from under Rick’s shins. Rick sat back on his haunches and removed his hand from Morty’s mouth. 

“R-Rick, ahh, get off my a-arms,” Morty said, looking up at him, dialing up the “helpless” look. Rick looked down at him blankly, but then shifted his shins onto the bed.

“You want my dick?” Rick asked slowly, looking away and biting the inside of cheek nervously. He looked distant and Morty wasn’t sure of what to make of it. Morty looked away, but then back up at Rick who was now staring back down at him. Morty’s breath hitched in his throat and he swallowed hard.

“W-W-What?”

“I’m asking you...do you actually want - want my dick or a-are you trying your hand at being a cock-tease, Morty?” Rick asked flatly, turning his head to the side so as to not look at him. Morty’s brows pulled together and his mind was stirring with possibilities. Possibilities and consequences. Rick still wouldn’t look at him. He looked like an animal who knew it was guilty. Morty bit his lip and nodded, but Rick didn’t acknowledge it. After a few seconds of silence, Morty spoke up.

“Y-Yeah…” Morty said finally, confident thus far in his answer. Rick looked down to him and without breaking eye contact, he grabbed his forearms and put them next to his head on the bed, pressing them curtly and then shifting his boxers to the side to pull out his cock.

“Keep those there,” Rick instructed, referring to his hands, as he shimmied up until his knees rested snuggly against Morty’s ribs. Morty did as he was told, keeping his hands on either side of his head, his arms bending in an ‘L’ shape just as Rick had maneuvered them before. Morty was beginning to feel nervous and could feel it flushing his face with a heat that coursed through him in wave after debilitating wave. He felt so small underneath Rick like this. It felt like it was stealing the air from his lungs, leaving him breathless and lightheaded. He soon found himself getting swept up in an anxious stupor, his eyes fading into a distance, and was suddenly grounded by a thumb that dragged his lower lip down and hungry eyes that looked absolutely  _ starving _ . 

Morty let his eyes fall past the hand that was still playing with his lower lip, watching Rick lift himself up onto his knees and hold his erection straight in his hand. Rick looked different. Completely different. His eyes looked wider, deeper, and darker. His body looked solid, strained, and determined. His muscles were tensed and Morty could see every etching, every line, every groove in his frame. He was hot, masculine, and fiery and Morty thought his heart would explode with as fast as it was suddenly pumping. Morty felt like he was being swallowed whole and consumed by the older man and he was suddenly snapped back to reality.

“Open your mouth,” Rick didn’t stutter, he didn’t hesitate, and it wasn’t exactly a request. Not that Morty intended to protest. That being said, maybe he needed some clarification…

“R-R-Rick - ”

“You said you wanted it. I’m giving it to you. Open your mouth,” Morty started to open his mouth and as he did, Rick wrapped a hand under his chin and pulled his head forward and tilted it back into the pillow. He shimmied his knees up higher, settling just below Morty’s armpits. Rick gave one last look over his face and Morty felt like his soul was being breached and valued. Rick placed the tip of his dick at Morty’s lips, dragging it down across them. A small bit of precum smeared onto his lips and his tongue darted out instinctively to lick it away, catching the underside of Rick’s cock in the sweeping motion. Rick’s stare was intrigued, but mostly placid as he cocked his head to the side a little. Morty locked eyes with him and Rick pressed forward once again, his tip insistently pushing into his mouth and stretching his jaw. 

Morty winced as a strenuous ache snaked through his jaw and despite the protest of his muscles, was cranked open wider as Rick continued to push in more of his shaft. Morty whimpered under the pounding pressure and he inhaled sharply through his nose, his fingers curling into his palms beside his head. Morty was so focused that when Rick fell forward and caught himself on the wall with a hand, Morty jumped and his eyes snapped open. Rick’s head was hung above him with his eyes closed and his lower lip caught between his teeth as his other hand continued to feed Morty his fat cock. 

Morty’s groin pulsed with a desperate plea for attention, angry and dripping. There was too much foreplay before this and his patience was quickly dwindling. He tried to reach for it, but was blocked by Rick’s thighs and was quickly corrected when a deft hand pulled one of his arms back into place. Morty lifted his hips off the bed, hoping Rick would get the message and touch him, but he didn’t. He didn’t touch him. He noticed, but he didn’t oblige. Morty whined and dropped his hips back down to the mattress harshly. 

The sudden drop caused a ripple of motion in the mattress and Morty’s head lurched upward slightly catching Rick’s cock as it slid in deeper... _ too deep and too sudden _ . He tried to adjust quickly and breathe deeply through his nose to catch his breath, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes watered profusely and while he tried to suppress the gag, but his stark lack of experience failed him. Morty looked up to Rick who was looking down at him, entranced, seemingly enjoying the convulsions. Morty outstretched his hands and pushed at Rick’s hips fervently. Rick hesitated briefly, but then pulled all the way out with a groan of obvious frustration.

Morty coughed hard, his stomach muscles aching terribly with each hard seize. He tried to gasp down air in between coughs and when he finally settled, his back relaxing back into the mattress, he saw Rick’s disapproving expression. He looked like he thought Morty was exaggerating. “Alright, enough, o-open,” Rick barked and nodded down at him, Morty’s mouth falling open a little bit in surprise, but then he quickly obliged. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and Rick placed his thumb on his bottom row of teeth and pulled his mouth down with it. He slipped his plump tip in again and wasted no time in sliding half of his length down swiftly. 

Morty adjusted quicker this time and Rick seemed to notice too. He pulled out and slid back in slowly, looking down to see his grandson looking up to him, mildly confused. Rick smirked and started pumping in and out of his wet mouth, startling him. Morty grimaced around the pounding girth, his arms reaching out to the side and grabbing at the sheets. Rick was deliberate, only giving him as much as he could take, careful not to go too hard. He didn’t want to have to stop again. Morty’s head was being pushed into the pillow over and over again and he whined loudly around him as Rick’s full balls smacked hard against his chin. He untangled his fingers from the sheets and put his hands in front of him, his fingers curled tightly. It’s not that he wanted him to stop necessarily, but his hands had a mind of their own. 

“Oh, fuck, there ya go...mmm…” Rick hummed. Noticing that Morty hadn’t stopped him, he picked up the pace and didn’t slow down when there was a knock on the door. Morty looked up to him, panic in eyes as he kicked his feet against the sheets...but he didn’t tell him to stop. “Come in,” Rick grinned and laughed at the boy’s face - a pure look of panic. Morty’s heart raced and he wondered if he was having a heart attack. He was completely exposed, pressed into the bed, his stone hard dick dripping, and his grandfather face-fucking him into the mattress. He whined around him and covered his face with his hands, Rick still pumping in and out of his mouth.

“Oh shit, am I interrupting?” Morty recognized the voice from earlier, it was deep and rich with confidence. It was Rando, the ringleader that had been eyeing him. Morty couldn’t see him, but he knew it was him.

“N-No, nggh, come in,” Rick groaned, swiping Morty’s hands away from his face. He laughed as he watched Morty’s eyes widen and whimper around him in a mixture of uncertainty and arousal. “I think he wants - wants you to watch,” Rick said with a choked chuckle. He wasn’t wrong, but Morty didn’t exactly want to admit it. Morty could hear the click of the door shut and foot steps moving closer and his eyes rolled back in his head, an intense heat flooding his limbs. He moved his legs mindlessly, lacking a centralized control over his extremities as his brain fogged over. His weeping cock was pointed straight up and strained, dribbles of precum rolling from the tip to the base. He could hear the gentle shift of weight from the man, but he was out of view. Not that Morty could really see anything from the position he was in anyway.

If he thought he needed to touch himself before, he  _ really  _ needed to touch himself now. It was becoming unbearable. Completely and utterly unbearable. Morty felt like he could die any moment under this unrelenting arousal. He felt the friction around the corners of his lips and the fullness of his mouth and he moaned involuntarily. He gripped at the sheets again, his fingers crawling down them, subconsciously trying to get as close to his painful member as he could. He was desperate for  _ anything _ .

Without warning, a strong, wet muscle licked its way up Morty’s cock, catching the precum at the base and then suckling at the head to gather the remaining pool at the slit. Morty shrieked around Rick, half in surprise and half in absolute, overwhelming pleasure, his cock bobbing appreciatively. His head lurched forward and he unintentionally took Rick all the way down his throat, retching around it. Rick gasped softly and gripped his slender hand under Morty’s chin, dropping his head against the wall. 

Morty was caught between the involuntary spamming of his stomach that forced him upward and onto the engorged cock and the excruciatingly pleasurable stimulation between his legs. His brain was sputtering, struggling to make a decision. Which did he address first? Rick noticed and he could tell that his grandfather didn’t want to stop and that he was using every ounce of willpower he had to do just that. He used the hand under his chin to guide him back and off of his fully-coated manhood, groaning as he watched Morty’s eyes quickly roll back from the relieving sensation. Rick was being slow and it was as if the action itself had made Morty’s decision for him. He pressed his hands into Rick’s stomach hard, insisting he move faster as he turned his head to the side to try to aid in it. 

It was  _ too  _ much. Way  _ too  _ much. He needed it to  _ stop _ and to stop _ now _ . He couldn’t breathe, like his mind was slowly melting to mush and he was panicking. The hot suction that was abusing the head of dick was flooding his brain and clamping around his lungs like a vice. Rick fully pulled himself out, his dick smearing saliva against his chin as it popped out of his mouth, and then hung above him impatiently. Morty wanted to speak, to tell the other man to stop too, but the words were stuck in his throat. His head tilted back and his eyes were stuck in the back of his head permanently, he was sure. Instinctively, he smacked against Rick’s chest and then pressed in hard as he tried to push himself up the bed and away from the stimulation. His whole body was shaking and the sounds that were pulled from his throat - hot moan after hot moan - were directly contradicting his actions. He hoped Rick would take his actions with more weight and tell the other man to stop for him.

Rick watched him for a moment as he enjoyed the view of his squirming grandson beneath him. Rick took a deep breath and released it in a heavy sigh. “Stop.” He rolled his eyes and looked away, annoyed. With a wet slurp, Morty’s cock was left bobbing with pulsating spasms, feeling suddenly cold under the room temperature air. 

“Th-Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Morty repeated breathlessly, relaxing into the bed and ignoring his grandfather who was rolling his eyes again and shaking his head disapprovingly above him. After what didn’t feel like nearly long enough, Rick spoke up again.

“A-Alright, that’s long enough,” Rick tapped his dick against Morty’s mouth again and Morty tried to turn his head away, but Rick’s firm grip pulled him back. “Open,” he instructed and Morty whined in response, but opened his mouth anyway. Rick slipped his tip in again and suddenly Morty knew he  _ really didn’t want this _ . He pressed his hands into Rick’s chest, his hands overlapping, pulling his head back as much as he could, and his eyes pleading him to stop. “Alright, you little shit, b-but let me put it - put it all the way down first and then I’ll stop,” Rick was waiting for permission before he did it, “...promise,” that was hot, Morty thought. He promises? Alright. He released a small moan and nodded. Rick pressed all the way in and Morty’s eyes widened, his hands being pressed back down by Rick’s chest as he dipped in as far as he could. Morty gagged hard, harder than he thought was possible and Rick pulled all the way out, hissing harshly. “Ss’Ahh...g-g-good job, ohh,” Rick groaned, gasping a little. “N-Nice and wet for me,” he hummed as he dropped his wet cock on Morty’s face. Morty winced a little at the contact, one of his eyes closing as it flopped right below it.

“Nggh,” Morty made a strained sound from deep in his throat and then gasped, “R-Rick, what - w-w-what are you doing?” Rick smirked, Morty looked so confused. So confused and adorable. For an obvious delinquent, he didn’t have much of an imagination. Rick placed an open hand over Morty’s face, his thumb resting against his jaw and his fingers splayed across his forehead. He pressed his palm against his length to guide it in a straight line. He pulled his hips backs and pushed them forward slowly, the tip grazing the edge of his eye, making it close instinctively, and then pushing into his hair a little. “Oh-h-h, fuck, Rick!” Morty gasped, stuttering, and his eyes crossing. If he thought he was used back in that meeting, this brought a whole new meaning to the word. Rick chuckled.

“Go ahead, Rando,” Rick nodded and before Morty could process anything, all verbal comprehension was pulled from his wheelhouse as that hot mouth took him all the way in, deepthroating him with vigor. Morty understood now. He got it. Why Rick had been so hesitant to stop. Rick chuckled watching him and continuing the swift thrusting motions against his face. Morty felt like he wanted to hold on to anything, but he couldn’t settle on what he wanted to grab. His brain was short circuiting. The hard pressure of Rick’s knees squeezed around him right beneath his arms. The tight pressure around his desperate cock. So wet, so tight. It felt so good and this time he was ready for it. “This ain’t his first time, babe, go ahead,” Rick said down to him and Morty knew what he meant. He lifted his hips, bucking them wildly as the man met each thrust with skill and expertise. “Put your tongue out,” Rick instructed, the saliva starting to dry against his face, but Morty wasn’t listening. “Hey! I said tongue out,” Rick said a little more harshly, and in an effort to avoid any delays in his own pleasure, Morty did just that: he stuck out his tongue.

Rick pulled all the back, running his dick over his tongue from tip to base and he knew he was growing close. Especially with that face Morty was making, all twisted in pleasure. “R-Rick, oh no, I’m gonna...I…” Morty gasped and held the air tightly in his lungs, his brain couldn’t even find the words anymore, but he was doing his best to warn them. 

“Go on,” Rick encouraged, but Morty’s mind felt like it was phasing in and out of consciousness with the intensity and force of his impending orgasm. He shook his head, trying to show that he couldn’t speak and Rick blew air through his nose, amused. Amateur. Morty could feel the silky, veiny skin of Rick’s cock sliding against the soft, messy skin of his cheeks, his one eye still squeezed tight as Rick’s length rubbed against it repeatedly. “Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful like this...l-l-look so good,” Rick murmured, the fullness in his balls crunching and tightening up like a spring that was ready burst at any moment. Morty whimpered in response to his words and as he felt Rick’s friend intentionally gag around him, his desire to cum canceled out the overstimulation that was holding him back and his orgasm wracked through him like a blunt force trauma, shaking his body. He felt like he may pass out, grabbing at Rick’s chest and arms for security without purchase. The man swallowed his cum as it shot down his throat and Morty could feel his throat move around him. He felt like he would never stop cumming and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to stop. Certainly, not under this deft mouth, slippery lips, and pleased hums that man was giving him in response.

The grabby, desperate fingers tipped Rick over the edge and as he pushed up his face again, his balls pulled up and sprang free, hot spurts of cum skidding across his cheeks, eye, and hair as the older man rode out his orgasm against his face, smearing the hot liquid every which way. Rick’s body went weak and he caught himself as he fell forward, his hands and his head holding his trembling body up against the wall. No longer holding his cock straight, it bent around the curvature of Morty’s cheek, the intensity of his bust slowing the waning of his erection. He could hear Morty’s mewls under him as his business partner slurped and licked at Morty’s spent manhood, a small kiss pressed against the head before the man stepped back. There was a long, silent pause, Rick’s back heaving with labored breaths as he tried not to fall on top of his shaking grandson.

“Well...I had fun,” Rando said, as he wiped away the remaining saliva on his lips with his thumb. Neither of them responded and Rick moved his body gently to the side, allowing gravity to plummet him back onto the bed, spreading his arms out wide as he still tried to catch his breath. He looked over to his grandson and blew air through his nose in a soft, half-hearted scoff - he was already asleep. Rick watched the man move to the door and place his hand on the door knob, pausing. Although Rick hadn’t intended for any of this to happen -  _ ever  _ \- he was pretty sure it helped his case. At least one good thing would come out of this drunken mistake.

“So, I’m assuming we have a deal then…?” Rick asked expectantly.

“Absolutely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof, I did a lot. Lmfao!! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed it 😌


End file.
